


Feel The Pain

by theimaginesyouneveraskedfor



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, NSFW, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 09:05:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6188473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor/pseuds/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been a long journey and the Company is exhausted, but none so much as the King. Can the Reader help relieve his aches and pain or will she only make her own troubles greater?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feel The Pain

You were sore and achy from the endless journey and you watched in relief as the rest of the Company began to set up camp. You began to stretch your legs with the aid of a hollow log in front of you, glancing around at the scattered activity. Tents were rising rather quickly and the fire already began to crackle in the centre of the dim clearing.

You grabbed at your sore hips, pushing out your middle to try to work out the knot in your lower back. Across the camp, you saw Thorin performing a similar action, though he looked like he was in pure agony. Even from where you stood, you heard the pained grunt which came to him. He straightened and you noticed a wince as he did so, he had done nothing to help himself.

As you watched him disappear into his tent, your own pain seemed to drift away. You were uncomfortable but you couldn’t help but sympathize with the pure torture which had paled the dwarven king’s features.

“Our uncle’s in a rather foul mood,” Fili commented to Kili as they sat on the sideways log, pulling out salted meat from their packs.

“I know, I swear he was about to cuff me just for looking at him,” Kili growled as he bit into the tough meat.

“Well, if ye were in that much pain, ye’d be a bit cruel yeself,” You said in your thick accent and they looked back at you.

“We’re all in pain, [Y/N],” Kili insisted, “Balin’s the oldest of us all, his bones close to crumbling, and his isn’t want to murder me over every little glance.”

“It’s a different kind of pain,” You stepped in front of the long, “That is agony boiled over with stress. It makes even ye blood hurt.”

“Mmm?” Fili lowered his heavy brow, “And how would you know that? The grumpy bugger barely says a word to you.”

He was right, the brooding dwarf barely even saw you when you were standing right in front of him. You rarely got more than a growl out of him, you had better conversation with Dwalin, that old bear. You had no idea why it was like that, but you hadn’t bothered much to think of it. You figured he was merely resentful of the female presence, many of the others had seemed unsure of you at first.

“I’m a woman, I see these things,” You returned with a frown, “Ye men can’t see past ye own noses.”

“Eh, and what do you know of men?” Kili sneered at you through a mouth of jerky.

“I know pain, it is the same in either,” You crossed your arms, a dull ache pulsed in your spine.

“Well, then the old man will just have to bear it out,” Fili said without empathy, “Mahal knows he’s been through worse.”

“Or he could relax fer once in his life,” You bit your lip, “An easy cure but not for him.”

“You said it,” Fili gave a sly smirk.

“If only he’d listen to me,” You looked back at his tent, “Or y’know, realize I existed. His stubborness will be his own downfall.”

“What are you going to do for it?” Kili asked with doubt.

“I know some things,” You turned back to the Durins, “I’ve dealt with people in pain me whole life.”

“Pain you no doubt inflicted,” Fili chuckled and you gave him a swat.

“Alright, then,” The grin fell from his face, “If you know so much about it, why don’t you go and ‘cure’ him? Hmmm.”

“Ha, he’d toss her out of his tent in a second,” Kili laughed himself but flinched as you glared back at him, preparing himself for a cuff that never came.

“He might, but I dun’ back down from a challenge,” You put your hands on your hips, the brothers’ irritating manner was only making your pain worse.

“Oh, really, this should be good,” Kili gave you a daring grin.

“Fine, if I can get through to the old dwarf, the two ye owe me,” You threw down the gauntlet, you would not let them win this one.

“Owe you what?” They looked at each other nervously.

“I dunno, we’ll figure that out when ye get something worth while,” You gave your own smirk as the two had a mental conversation with their eyes.

“Alright, we owe you but the same stands for you,” The two of them held out their hands and you shook them.

“Seeing him throw you out on that great arse of yours will be a prize in itself,” Fili commented with a grin and you felt like hitting him again.

“Ye should have more faith in me,” You gave a confident smile, “I’ve never lost a bet in me life.”

* * *

You stood looking intently at the flap of Thorin’s tent and you could hear the distant giggles of the Durin brothers. You turned back to give them a harsh glare and it only made them laugh louder. You chewed the inside of your cheek trying to figure out how to go about the whole thing.

You were confident that given the chance, you could release the knots which no doubt ravaged Thorin’s back. The only thing was, he was not very likely to let you. You were convinced he would rather an elf lay there hands on him before the likes of you. Finally, you sighed one last time and forced yourself to step closer to the tent; if you didn’t do it soon, you’d would lose your nerve and the bet.

“Ahem, Thorin,” You said through the thick canvas, knowing the sound of your voice alone must have made him bristle.

“[Y/N]?” He lifted the flap from the other side, looking through at you with angry eyes, “What is it now?”

“Um, could I have a word?” You rubbed the back of your neck nervously.

“Is it important?” Pain flashed once more across his face.

“I’d say it’s urgent,” You replied, pleading with your eyes.

“Come in, I can’t keep stooping here like an old crone,” He growled and withdrew, you followed with one last look at the still chuckling brothers.

“Look,” You clasped your hands together after closing the flap behind you, “I know ye really can’t be bothered with likes of me and all, but I dun’ really care anymore.” You hadn’t meant to start this way but all your thoughts had flown away, “But I’m not blind, I can see ye'r in pain.”

“Is that why you’ve come? To diagnose me?” He furrowed his brow at you in annoyance, “You know, your tiresome observations only make my pain greater.”

“Hmmm,” You sighed, this was going about as well as you expected, “I’ve actually come here, despite yer horrid manner, to try to help ye.” You crossed your arms as you frowned at him.

“And how is it that you’re going to help me? Are you planning on talking away the pain?” He grimaced and you could see another pang flare behind his eyes, “Or are you going to distract me with your irritating banter until I forget about the ache?”

“You are tempting me to give ye more,” You bristled, before reigning in your rising temper, “I only want to help ye, which I can see was foolish. Yer ego seems greater than the pain.” You sneered as you said this, “But, it is yer loss. Go on, spend the eve in misery, I got me own aches to deal with.”

You turned to leave, making sure to dig your heel furiously into the dirt. You were going to have to admit defeat to those two smirking fools and you had made things even worse between you and the stubborn king.

“Wait,” He exhaled with exasperation, “You can help?” You swiviled slowly to look back at him, his hand subconsciously gripping his back.

“Yes, but ye have to listen to me,” Your tried to soften your voice.

“How did you know?” He eyed you suspiciously.

“Any fool could see it, especially with those grunts ye keep making,” You replied dryly, “Sound like ye being flayed.”

“Feels like it,” His face softened slightly, “How do you know what to do?”

“Must I go through an interrogation or are ye going to let me help?” You put your hands on your hips much like your mother would have. He at least had the grace to look slightly guilty. “I’ve done it before, I use to work for an old healer. He was never wrong about much.”

“Alright, alright,” He finally surrendered, “What do I have to do?”

“Um,” You forgot how awkward this would be, especially considering the bitterness which stood between you, “Take ye shirt off.” You kept your voice from breaking.

“My shirt?” He narrowed his eyes, looking at you like a madwoman.

“Take it off and lay down,” You pointed to his bedroll, thinning your lips, “On ye stomach.”

“And then what?” He didn’t move.

“And then I’m gonna have ta touch ye,” You forced yourself to say, “Or do ye think me hands poison?”

“No, no,” He looked down, a look of regret in his eyes, “I…I’m sorry, I just–”

“Ye in pain and ye can’t stand the like o’ me,” You finished for him blankly, “It’s alright, I’ve met plenty o’ people I didn’t like in my time.”

“No, I, uh–” His eyes were a picture of confusion? Hurt? Loathing? You could not tell, “Thank you, for helping,” It seemed the only thing he could think to say.

He pulled the hem of his shirt over his head, another pained grunt came with the movement and you felt worse for him. His chest was thick with hair, his muscles hard beneath the flesh, and faint scars speckled his skin. He went over to the bed roll and got to his knees, groaning as he made to lower himself. You offered a hand and helped him recline, knowing how such an ache could make the simplest action a battle.

“Thanks,” He muttered looking away as he turned onto his stomach with another grunt.

“Alright, I’m gonna try to loosen ye knots with me hands, but it won’t do any good if ye keep yeself so tense,” You warned, kneeling down and looking over his rigid back, trying to figure out where to begin.

His shoulders seemed like the best place to start, you knew his worst pain was in his lower back and you wanted to spend the most time on that. You placed your hands gently on his left shoulder, he flinched even at the light pressure, “It might hurt at first, but it’ll get better,” You assured him, “But only if ye relax,” You repeated the advice.

A sliver of his tension faded, though he was still strained beneath your hands. You began to lightly knead at his muscles, pushing against the resistance of his unease. As you worked your hands in the familiar motions, the rest of you felt unfamiliar. Touching him was different than you had imagined; you hadn’t actually though he would let you. You cursed yourself as you felt heat in your face; you had touched men before, enjoyed it even.

As you bent over him, your own shoulders began to ache and you realized that you couldn’t stay the way you were at his side. You sighed softly so he didn’t hear and you removed your hand, causing him to look back at you with confusion.

“Is something wrong?” He asked, the anger had drained from his tone.

“I, uh,…” You rubbed your thighs with anxiety, “I can’t do it from here. I might have to….go over ye.”

“Do what you must,” He dropped his head once more, his hair limp across the ground.

“Tell me if it’s uncomfortable, though,” You really didn’t want to do this anymore.

“I can handle it,” He muttered against the bedroll.

You rose and stood over him, carefully lowering yourself to straddle his lower back, or more appropriately, his bottom. It was actually a better vantage point for you, you would have more leverage and you would be able to feel his warmth below—No, you would be able to work better.

You went back to his left shoulder, focusing on a particularly large knot which must have caused him immense pain. As you deepened your kneading, applying some weight to your work, he groaned and your heart quickened. It was normal for those in his position to make noises but something about it made you sweat.

You were bent over him, pushing into his strained muscles, moving to his other shoulder once you were satisfied with the first. As you tried to put all your weight into a particularly rough patch, your pelvis grinded a little too close and the tickle inside made you bite your lip and curse to yourself once more. More than that, as you stretched across him to knead the other shoulder, your chest brushed the middle of his back and you hoped he hadn’t realized.

You straightened as you ran your hand between his shoulder blades, more grunts and groans sounded from him, the contented noises arising the more you touched him. You continued to focus on his rigid spine which slowly relaxed the further you got. His moans were growing even louder and they only made you sweat more as you tried to ignore the animalistic noises.

You were done with the center of his back and now the toughest part came. His lower back which was bothering him so much it was tenser than the rest. You began with his left side, working the flesh with your fingers first to loosen it up. More groans. You finally felt the biggest knot yet and you drove the heel of your hand into it with care.

“Aahh, [Y/N],” He exclaimed, though there was no pain in his voice.

* * *

“What was that?” Fili turned to his brother as they sat waiting for [Y/N] to come out from the tent in defeat.

“I….” Kili looked from his brother to the Thorin’s tent, his eyes widening, “I think that was our dear uncle.”

Fili followed his brother’s gaze to the tent, realizing it had been quite a while since the small girl had entered. He was sure that she would lose the bet though, there was no way she would win. The reason it was taking so long was because she was just as stubborn as his uncle. She was likely in their verbally assaulting him because she hadn’t gotten her way. Again, Thorin’s voice rang from the tent, this time a deep roar.

“That didn’t sound angry,” Kili looked at his brother with confusion.

“No,” Fili had to agree, “It doesn’t sound close to angry.”

* * *

Another animalistic rumble came from the dwarf beneath you as you pressed once more into the knot and you went to remove your hands, thinking you had hurt him.

“No, no,” He exhaled, he almost sounded happy, “Please, keep going.”

You kept your hands on him and went on with the heavy kneading. He continued to moan and it only made you warmer, but you held your focus on keeping your hands moving. You worked over to his other side where a matching knot stood and again he exclaimed with pleasure, nearly screaming your name. You were finding it difficult to keep going, you shifted on his hips and he moaned again, this time lower, deeper.

“Did I hurt ye?” You asked nervously.

“No, no,” He breathed out, “Not at all.” You could swear he was grinning.

You worked your fingers deeper, driving your hand with into his flesh as you applied extra pressure. You were nearly done and you were glad of it. You had to get out of there before his moans got to you, before the heat became unbearable.

“Alright,” You stilled your hands, pushing yourself with your knees to your feet, “I think I did as much as I can.”

“Could—” His voice was hushed, ragged, “Could you do the other side?”

“Um,” It wasn’t unheard of, “If it helps.”

He rolled over between your feet before you could even step away and you couldn’t believe how big the smile on his face was. You had seen him smile only once before, and it had certainly not been because of you.

“Go ahead,” He motioned for you to sit once more and you hid your discomfort as you realized how much worse this was going to be.

“Uh, alright,” Your voice was little more than a squeak as you lowered yourself.

Your bottom finally met the top of his pelvis and you tried not to put too much weight on him. You brought your hands up the front of his shoulders above his chest, you felt short of breath. You began to rub them deeply, rolling the hard muscle beneath your fingers with experience. You tried not to show how nervous you were as you focused more on the knots in his chest. You bit your lip as you always did when you were trying to concentrate.

Again he was moaning and this time there wasn’t a single trace of pain in his voice. He was saying your name over and over and your pelvis was hot with betrayal. His voice was loud and it was all you could hear, you bit your lip harder, hoping for blood. You needed penance.

You worked down his ribcage, the muscles finally soft beneath your hands, you felt something around your hips. You paused your hands, a tremble went through you which could not be suppressed. You looked down to find Thorin’s hands on your hips, his grasp was more tender than you had ever imagined. You had only ever seen him use his hand with violent precision. He nudged you back an inch and you felt something below you; something hard.

You gasped with widened eyes, “Thorin,” Though it was no more than a weak whisper.

“[Y/N],” His voice was low and filled with pleasure.

You looked down at him, his eyes sparkling with desire below lids drowsy with lust. His expression sent a shiver through you, you had never seen anything but irritation and loathing when he looked at you. His hands began to move, resting finally around your round bottom and you let out an uncontrolled moan.

“Thorin,” You repeated, his name seemed the only word you knew.

“[Y/N],” He grinned with shining eyes, his tongue running hungrily across his lips.

“I—” You lifted your hands from his stomach, “I can’t.”

You pushed yourself away from him with the rest of your strength, a moment longer and you knew you would never have left that tent. His face fell with disappointment as you looked down at him, fighting against yourself. You tried to say something but couldn’t think of any words, you turned with panic and pushed through the flap. _What was going on? What had you done?_

As you cleared the tent, letting the flap fall closed, you looked up to an audience of stunned eyes. They lingered only a moment before the rest of the Company snapped back into action, chattering loudly about the stew, sharpening their weapons, pretending to doze.

You went over to your pack and pulled out your weathered bowl and spoon, stopping by the fire pit for a scoop of the stew. You looked around at the elusive gazes and realized what everyone must have been thinking. Oh, Mahal, what _had_ you done?

You crossed to the log where Kili and Fili still sat, their eyes stuck to the ground as you sat beside them. You silently spooned the dark broth into your mouth, the heat was still burning in your pelvis. You felt the brothers’ sneaky looks and finally you dumped your stew with fury, no longer hungry.

“What?!” You turned to them.

“So, uh,” Fili’s grin returned which made you sneer, “It sounded like you won the bet.”

“Don’t,” You warned, pointing at him with your spoon, “It isn’t what ye think?”

“Oh no?” Kili’s smirk sent a different fire through you, “We weren’t born yesterday, [Y/N]. We know what we heard.”

“Which was more than enough,” Fili added and you threw your bowl at him, not caring about the old dish.

You pushed yourself off the log and looked around at the evasive faces, only one had the gull to smile at you. You crossed over to Bilbo who huddled silently by the fire, you lowered yourself down beside him with a gruff greeting.

“Eh, Bilbo,” Your accent grew heavier in your anger, “What'ye doin’?”

“Enjoying the night,” He looked up to the stars, though you realized he was avoiding eye contact.

“It sounded like she was too,” Bofur said from across the fire, “Or at least Thorin was.”

“Another word and ye won’t see another night,” You growled over at the goofy dwarf.

“Leave her alone,” Dwalin growled, “She hasn’t got time for the likes of you, not when she’s got a king.”

“I haven’t,” You protested, once again standing with fury, “It wasn’t like that. He hates me, y'know? If y'haven’t noticed that by now!” You turned, nearly stepping headfirst into Thorin’s chest.

“We should talk,” He looked at you with concern, his hair was a mess and his tunic hung loosely from his shoulders.

“Aye, talk,” Bofur said from behind you, “Looks like the two 'em have got some unfinished business.”

“I warned ye, ye oaf,” You turned to charge at the grinning dwarf but Thorin caught your arm.

“Talk, now,” His voice was back to its old angry timbre.

You followed him back to his tent, your head hung with a mixture of shame and rage. You could feel the eyes stabbing into your back from around the camp. The flap closed behind you once more and you found your voice.

“Look, all I meant was to help ye,” You began, “I never meant fer such a reaction.”

“I know,” He looked apologetic.

“I dun’ understand,” You said more to yourself, “Ye hate me, I see it every time ye lay eyes on me.”

“Hate?” He repeated, “I should’ve said so earlier, but I don’t hate you.”

“Sure, sure,” You replied doubtfully, “Ye barely take the effort to look at me and ye never listen to a word I say. S'why I’ve given up talkin’ to ye.” You looked to the ground, “I only wanted to help 'cause ye looked like ye was in agony.”

“[Y/N], I’m sorry you ever thought I hated you,” His voice was low, “I suppose it’s my own fault, it was only, well, I was in pain. I’m getting old and it doesn’t help my manners any.”

“Ye don’t hate me?” You looked at him with surprise.

“Well, I think you already know that,” He gave a coy smirk, “I think I gave quite a clear answer earlier.”

You remembered the rising pressure under your pelvis and you bit your lip again.

“Stop that,” He breathed, stepping closer, “I cannot bear it.” His hand was on your cheek, “You’re much too rough on those lips.”

“Thorin,” You put your hand on his chest, “I–”

His lips were on yours before you could say another word and his hands were once again on your bottom. You couldn’t help but moan into his lips and you felt him grin. He finally pulled away, your heart was pounding.

“I think I should return the favour,” His hands brushed up your sides, “I owe you as much.”

“What?” You eyed him with confusion.

“Take your shirt off,” He moved back and gestured to the bedroll, “And lay on your stomach.”

“No, it’s alright,” You were sore but you would rather another kiss, the heat within was making you sweat again.

“Relax,” He grabbed your hand, pulling you to the bedroll, “And listen to me. I’m trying to help.” He echoed your earlier words and you couldn’t gather enough thoughts to argue.

You slowly took the hem of your shirt and raised it over your head, your undershirt was damp with sweat and you could feel it cling to your stomach.

“That one too,” His voice was musky as he looked at you, his eyes as bright as before.

You removed the shirt slowly, your chest heaving as you finally bared your breasts to the warm air of the tent interior. Despite the heat and the sweat along your hairline, your nipples were hard under Thorin’s gaze. He looked at them hungrily before you finally moved, lowering yourself onto your stomach across the bedroll.

He stood over you a moment before he lowered to his knees, straddling lightly, keeping the bulk of his weight off of your smaller frame. His large hands softly caressed your shoulders and neck and you closed your eyes. His hands mimicked your own and a mixture of relief and longing washed over you.

His hand continued to explore your back, wrestling with a few knots and you began to moan as much as he had. Now you knew what he had felt, why he had not been able to restrain himself.

“Now, the front?” It wasn’t really a question.

He rose on his knees enough for you to push yourself onto your back and he lowered himself once more. His hand ran along your collar bone, between your breasts, along your stomach, his fingers trailing your hip bones. You were moaning his name and you hadn’t even realized it.

His hands cupped your breasts, teasing your nipples and you sighed with pleasure. A shiver ran along your spine and you arched into his hands. You were so hot and you felt the familiar pang of desire below, you bit your lip again, another moan slipped from them.

“What did I tell you about that?” Thorin bent over you and kissed you hungrily, you could feel his own longing against you.

“Please,” You hadn’t meant to beg but you couldn’t handle anymore, “Please, I need you.”

He grinned down at you, giving you another kiss before he stood and began to fumble with the laces of his breeches. You looked down to your own, clumsily working the binding, you could feel the dampness through the fabric. You lifted your pelvis off the bedroll and wriggled out of them, kicking your boots off in the same movement.

Thorin was on his knees once more, this time between your legs, his hair streaming down his shoulders. He positioned himself in front of you and resisted the urge to bite your lip as he entered you. He held himself over you with his arms, you ran your hands through his wavy hair, moaning as he began to move.

His own moans began as you began to rock below him, trying to push him further in. You were soon grasping at his shoulders desperately as the pleasure built within you. Your breathing was so heavy that you couldn’t control the volume of your moans. You were begging again.

He quickened and you pulled him down closer, urging him deeper again. You found your hands around his muscular bottom, his own hands buried within your tangled hair. You could feel it, the spreading heat, the familiar tingle. It was building, bubbling, burning, and it was about to reach a boil.

You yelled out his name one last time as you arched in pleasure, you were whimpering as the waves washed over you and soon he had met his own peak. Your whole body was covered with sweat and your voice was lost within you. He finally stopped, leaning over you tiredly, before he withdrew.

You laid there panting as the ecstacy settled, he lifted your head onto his own sweaty shoulder, his chest lifting and rising as rapidly as yours. You could not have moved if you had tried, you just wanted to lay there as the tickle slowly faded.

“So,” You exhaled, “How’s the pain?”

“It’s better,” He pulled you closer, “For now.”


End file.
